Quadrivium Equitatus
by Armelle-Madeline
Summary: Voldemort's fight has not yet begun, as Harry and Ron discover that one amongst them has turned traitor for reasons entirely her own..


A/N: Set sometime past the seventh year, on the premise that no-one may join the Order until they are of the wizarding age. The war with Voldemort still rages.  
  
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, they are the property of J.K.Rowling. I am merely playing with them a wee bit.  
  
The group of people nearly filled the room; their proximity making the place hot, and stuffy. The fire still glowing in the grate didn't help. As the last few entered, and the door closed, a thin figure rose from the straight-backed chair beside the fire, spidery fingers reaching out to caress the head of a docile snake beside it.  
  
"So," Lord Voldemort's voice was measured, slow, his eyes drifting from person to person, the lazy look seeing far more than defiance, hatred, even satisfaction on the subject's face. "We are all assembled. Avery?" he snapped, shooting a fierce look to the back of the room, as the man who had secured the door stepped forward, a subservient dip in his movement, cringing slightly. The collective Death Eaters sighed in anticipation. Fear was not an emotion one presented to the Dark Lord.  
  
"You were ordered to watch over the school, were you not?" Voldemort held out his wand, examining it, stroking a finger down the wood gently, his eyes not meeting Avery's. The man swallowed, a stench of terror rising from him. Lucius Malfoy sighed in annoyance, his nostrils twitching delicately as he took a small step away.  
  
"Not.. not exactly.. sir," Avery stammered. Lord Voldemort's head lifted.  
  
"Either you were, or you weren't, Avery," he drawled, that cold, calculating voice pulling at each member standing there, a frisson of fear juddering down their spines. One mistake, one misstep, and it could be them, justifying themselves to the man who did not even fear death.  
  
Avery bowed his head. "Yes, sir," he whispered. Voldemort regarded him a moment, then said coolly, "You must not lie to me, Avery." He lifted the wand in his hand.  
  
"I didn't!" Avery screamed in terror, crossing his arms over his chest, ducking his head. "I didn't!"  
  
"Thoughts whispering across your mind, Avery," Voldemort spoke softly, only the now condemned man could hear him, "hissing in your ear. Shall you lie to the Dark Lord? Shall you hide your actions? Unwise, Avery. Unwise, when he can read your every dream." His voice hardened. "Crucio."  
  
They studiously ignored his screams, until the tortured man fell silent once more, mumbling to himself.  
  
"Report back to me," Voldemort demanded. "The Malfoys." Three figures moved into the firelight, robed, and cloaked in black. Three lifted their hoods, and laid them back, blond hair almost white. Lucius nodded his head cordially to the Dark Lord, as Narcissa placed one hand gracefully onto her husband's arm.  
  
"The house is secure," Lucius Malfoy's voice was mild, hardly betraying the excitement that coursed through the group. "There is no doubt."  
  
"You are sure?" Voldemort said quickly, his eyes burning fiercely. "It is them?"  
  
"The Order's first base is indeed there, my lord," Narcissa said, her own voice low. "It stands out clearly. The stench of muggles is quite rank around it. Only the Order would choose such a place," she finished in disgust.  
  
"And the young one," Voldemort commanded, a small smile playing on his cruel, white face. "Draco." He said the word slowly, enjoying it. "Has it been so long, so very long, that a son of my faithful servant stands before me?"  
  
The third figure, a thin, rather scrawny young man, bowed, his pinched features evident in the flickering light. His unkempt hair brushed the edge of his collar, most of it caught back, as his father's was, in a black ribbon.  
  
"My Lord," Draco said, his pleasure evident, his eyes alight with passion. "I have been following the efforts of the ministry, as you said." He produced from a pocket a thin card. On it, his name, and 'Department of Mysteries' was inscribed. "It has taken much-" he paused, "Effort, to ensure my success. However, I will gain access to the inner rooms very shortly."  
  
"What stops you?" Voldemort asked, calm interest in his tone. Draco bowed again.  
  
"They do not trust me, sir," he said, impatience and a tinge of fear evident, "But I am attempting to prove myself trustworthy. With the collapse of Azkaban, they bear almost no hold on those supporters they manage to find. I am working on a system for holding them. I will of course, provide a means of freedom, once my goal is achieved," he finished smoothly.  
  
"Good," Voldemort answered, genuine approval in his words. He glanced towards another cloaked figure, a slight member, standing to his left. He motioned the person forward.  
  
As the Death Eater lifted back the hood, the arm of the robe fell back, revealing a red, and raw-looking Dark Mark, burnt into the flesh of the arm. Hermione shook back thick brown hair, and lifted her eyes, defiance sparkling in them as they met Lord Voldemort's own red, without fear. As the Malfoys stepped back, to allow room for her, a silent gasp emited from Draco.  
  
"Miss Granger," Lord Voldemort said, very quietly. He smiled, a strange look on his face, satisfaction, animosity, and a slight look of excitement. "How goes your watch?"  
  
Hermione lifted her head high proudly. "They do not suspect. I have been following Harry Potter for the last month, without interruption. He is, as you suspected, a member of the Order now. He has been taken in by another wizarding family."  
  
Voldemort watched her carefully, his mind wandering freely within hers, admiring what he found there.  
  
"So we are in place," he finally spoke, regarding them all. "We know the Order's current position. Do we know the time?"  
  
Bellatrix Lestrange now pushed forwards, her dark hair falling either side of her pale face. "The time is set, my Lord. It has been seen," she answered, anticipation colouring her words. She shook back the thick locks from her face, and looked around at the company silently. "It is coming," she whispered.  
  
A/N: Next chapter, the trio united, Harry, Ron, Ginny and the Order.  
  
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